


Do Ye Have A Pen?

by WolfCMDR



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Multi - Freeform, Semi Slow Burn, Witty Banter, blood and guts eventually, character is a shameless flirt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfCMDR/pseuds/WolfCMDR
Summary: The Fade is mysterious and dangerous, and apparently has ulterior motives as to why a desk jockey from our world is put into a dead girl's body. Watch as our Lavellan sleeps her way through Thedas, and might just help save the world while she's at it.





	1. Awake and Half Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever published work. please be brutal and honest, and let me know how to improve. There is no beta reader currently, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Dragon Age series nor the Andromeda series. I make no profit from this work.

She woke, gasping for air amid a pool of her own sweat. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, getting her heart under control for fear of alerting the templars right outside the door to the apprentice quarters. She opened her eyes to ground her in reality, and to make sure she no longer wandered the Fade and all its tricks. Once calm, she began to analyze her dream.

A city of chains, red shards of a glass-like material shattering, green lights like fireworks lighting the sky, monsters rotting with poison, a gold glowing woman.

She was going to die. 

Andrea Lavellan was to be no more.

Well, not as herself at least.

She smirked, thinking of her future. Sometimes the Sight was a bitch.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laura Goodwind was as unremarkable as they come. Plain brown hair that covered her eyes, plain jeans and t-shirt, plain personality. She worked a dull office job full time, paid her taxes, no criminal record. Completely forgettable. Amid the fog of her day to day, there was one bright distinction: when she got home, she could lose herself in books or her current muse, video games. She had been a soldier in space, an android of the future, a vengeful god, the smitten hero, a bank robber, gangster, wizard with a scar, she’s even wielded a dildo bat to defeat demons from hell. Those stories are everything she looked forward to in her day. To discover new frontiers and untold stories. 

On this day, such as they ran together, she was finishing a particularly difficult mission as her Pathfinder. She sighed as she finally defeated the boss. Turning her console off, she went to scrap together some kind of dinner. She opened the fridge.

Nothing. 

The cabinets, just as bare.

Loathing her trip to the corner store, she grabbed a grey hoodie and her apartment keys and walked out the door, locking it behind her. As she walked down the stairs of her apartment complex she contemplated how she let her fridge run out, again.

Well, it’s not like my mom swings by anymore with one of her coupon trips.

She quickly steered her mind away from her mother. She adjusted her thick glasses agitatedly. Since the untimely death of her family’s matriarch, she had not seen hide nor hair of her extensive family. 

I guess that is what I get for not playing by the rules. 

Absorbed in her thoughts as she was, she missed the light turning red as she crossed. Headlights and a car horn, and her last thought blared through her brain.

Oh shit. 

An increasingly insistent migraine vibrated through my head. I groaned, thinking I had stayed up too long playing games and staring at the screen. I rubbed my face, realizing my glasses must have fallen off, since I didn’t remember taking them off. In fact, I didn’t remember anything from yesterday but coming home. I frowned, keeping my eyes shut just in case this insufferable throbbing was sensitive to light. The throbbing kept getting louder and-wait, what?  
Someone was pounding on my door.  
What the hell?  
I called out to whoever the hell thought they could bang on my door this early.

“Go the fuck away!”

The pounding stopped, mercifully. I sat up carefully, keeping my head as steady as possible to not have vertigo. I cracked open first one eye, then the next, wary of the light. I stared at the floor, wondering when the fuck I decided to get a rug. I wiggled my toes, pressing them against the rough surface.  
That is a really shitty rug.

It was a dark red, with swirling black patterns. I deciphered one into a dragon, another into what looked like an elven wizard or some other form of magic user. Huh, I thought, maybe I drank and went shopping?

As I was getting used to the rug that I possibly drunkenly bought, the wooden door I had yet to discover shattered as a man in fully plate armor busted through.  
I shouted in surprise and fell off the bed I was sitting on, landing on my right shoulder and tweaking it. The knight or whatever he was started speaking in a foreign language and drew his sword, and I felt the very essence of my soul leave my body. I started gasping, feeling as if my limbs were iron fused to the floor.

“There was no need for all that, Ser Easly. I would have handled it.” The voice was old and feminine, but held such a sense of authority, almost like royalty. The owner of the voice stepped out from behind the suffocating knight, who filled the doorway with his massive frame. 

Seriously, that dude has to be like 300 pounds or something.

“Lavellan, why did you deny us entry? Now I will have to fix the door to your new quarters before you even have a chance to move in. You know how testy these templars are nowadays.” She was old, maybe in her fifties, with graying hair and long wrinkles on her face. She wore a black robe, embroidered with gold and silver filigree. 

“Uh….what?” I stuttered and probably had my mouth hanging open like a gaping fish. Who the hell are these people?

“Tch. The day after the Harrowing is confusing to some. Ser Easly, thank you for your assistance, but I have it from here.” The old woman waved away the knight. He sheathed his sword and turned back through the door, disappearing from sight. As he left, the suffocating feeling left with him, and I gasped feeling life return to my limbs and lungs. The woman approached the bed and sat, delicate and proper like a flower. She motioned for me to join her. I slowly gathered myself together and stood up, but I did not sit beside this stranger. I turned and noticed a desk against the wall, so I moved and leaned against the front facing the woman. I crossed my arms and waited for some kind of explanation.

“Do you remember the Harrowing, my dear?” She spoke with an air of royalty, like she wasn’t used to being refused. 

“The what?” I asked. For some reason, I got a strong sense of “don’t piss her off”, even though she looked as frail as an old twig.

“Your Harrowing, the test you went through to become a full member of our Circle?”  
What is she talking about? Circles? Tests? I haven’t taken a test since high school…

“I don’t remember anything at all.” I figured my best bet for answers was to suffer from amnesia per se and have them explain it without explicitly asking.

“Hmm. Memory loss, though uncommon, does happen. And your Harrowing was an unusual one. You fought a demon and won my dear. You have shown that you can handle the temptations of the Fade and all it holds. You now have access to our full library and stockroom, and can do any research and experiments you wish, within the guidelines of course.” She chuckled lightly, and I got the feeling it was about as real as my Master’s In Bullshit. 

“What do I have to do in return?” I asked, there was no way I got all this just for some silly test.

“You have already paid the price my dear, there is no more you must do. Aside from of course not tampering with demons and blood magic. And following the templars orders. But they are sedate for the most part.” She smiled a close-lipped smile, one full of promise of evils I couldn’t imagine.

“Uh, thanks?” 

She stood with a grace my clumsy ass could only dream of, and headed to the open doorway. 

“Your new robes are in your trunk over there,” she motioned to the far wall, where a large wooden chest sat. “Lunch is not until midday, so you have some time to get your quarters arranged how you like. I will have someone bring the rest of your things.” She left the room with a swish of her black robes, taking with her my composure. 

I turned and placed my hands on the edge of the desk, leaning over it as my body violently shook. The panic slowly settled in like an old friend, bringing with it nausea and vertigo. 

Where the hell am I? I closed my eyes and attempted to control my breathing in order to chase away the panic. As soon as it was manageable, I stood up, wobbly kneed as I was, and looked around the room. A roughly full-sized bed sat in the middle, with dark grey sheet and a dull blue comforter. The walls were a drab grey stone, each piece roughly the same shape. On the wall where the door once stood were two book shelves, framing the door way. They were full to the brim, and a step stool sat on the corner to the right. On the wall across from me was the trunk, wooden and looked heavy as hell. Next to it was what looked like an armoire, the same color of wood as the trunk, bookshelves, and desk. To the left of the armoire was a small vanity, complete with a mirror and what looked like perfumes laid out. A small nightstand sat on either side of the bed, and to my immediate left was another bookshelf, but this one was only half full. i looked down at my body, only now realizing the roughness of the fabric I wore. It was thin, but scratchy and not finely made, unlike the obvious glamour of the old lady. They were simple brown leggings and a long white shirt, almost a tunic. In studying the clothes, I noticed a very strange thing indeed. 

I was skinny.

Like, I could see my ribs when I lifted my shirt and twisted.

I have never in my life been this skinny. In fact, all of my doctors told me I was mildly overweight every time I went, which in part affected the lack of doctor’s visits in recent years. I decided the mirror was priority one and rushed to the other side of the room. What I saw as my reflection almost caused me to faint. I gripped the edge of the vanity with my right hand and reached up to my face with the other. The high cheekbones were familiar, but the hollow, almost gaunt cheeks, the thin long nose, silky black tresses, and bright purple irises were completely foreign. A thinly pointed ear poked out of the black strands, and I started to hyperventilate. I had no idea what was happening, how I got here, who I was supposed to be, or why the hell a knight in glittering armor had wanted to kill me for not answering my door. Just as I was about to shut down and completely enter a panic attack, someone tapped the stone of the doorway.

“Andrea, I brought the rest of your things from the apprentice chambers! You really don’t hold onto much do you? Most mages become hoarders after the Harrowing though, so we shall see.”

I turned slowly to look at the intruder. It was a human woman, tall and lanky, with long auburn hair in a loose, messy bun. She wore robes of green and dark grey, and they swished to and fro as she walked into the room with a small crate of what I assumed were supposed to be my things. She set the crate down on the nightstand closest to her, and on the opposite side of the bed as I was standing. She turned and gave me a full smile, teeth and all. As I continued to stare, her smile turned into a frown, and then confusion.

“Uh, who are you?” I bluntly asked, wanting to know why this person was so familiar.

She giggled and put her hands on her hips. 

“It’s Evelyn, silly.”


	2. Fade it All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New place, new face. How to present?

“I’m sorry, the Harrowing has left me quite confused.” I scrubbed my face, thinking this was all a dream and I would wake up on my couch any minute now. 

Her frown remained for a second, and then was replaced by her ear-splitting grin. 

“Tis alright. I remember my Harrowing, I was out of it for two days and nights. Senior Enchanter Lydia had to use smelling salts to wake me.” She turned back to the crate and began to unpack the things and put them on the bed.

I shook my head and desperately tried to remember the events before I woke. I was rewarded with a splitting headache, right in the middle of my brain. Evelyn must have seen the scowl I made, because she rushed over.

“Oh, do you have another of your migraines? Tch, you really should expand your spirit healing, so you can take care of this. I won’t always be around when you need it.” She smiled gently and lightly touched her index and middle finger to my left temple. A warmth spread from her fingers, seeping into my head and soothing the ache that had settled there. I looked up and caught her eye, and her smile spread wider. A vision entered my brain, or more like a memory. One that wasn’t mine. 

_Evelyn was giving that same soft smile, but this time her hair was cropped short and close to her head. She was nude, and I was apparently hovering over her. There were new lines around her face, lines of sorrow, and a scar pierced her left brow._

A feeling of regret and remorse flows through me as the memory fades, and I struggle to not let the emotions show on my face.

“That better?” The Evelyn from the now turns and picks up the now empty crate.

“Wait, that old woman was a Senior Enchanter?” I said, trying to steer her away from studying my face.

“She is the senior enchanter for our Circle. Are you sure you are okay?” An honest look of concern crossed her face.

“I am fine, just merely drained from the ordeal. I am starving, though.” I assume the tactic of deflection, hoping that if I play along well enough I can discover my own answers, or waste time until the dream ends.

“It is time for the midday meal, get dressed and we will dine together.” Although she still seemed concerned, she smiled and left the room with the crate.

I sighed and looked about on the bed at the possessions that were scattered about. A couple of leather bound journals, some inkwells and a couple rolls of possible parchment, along with an amulet with a small simple chain. I picked up the necklace. The chain was silver in color, and the stone was a deep red. It was possible it could be garnet, but I highly doubt it to be a ruby. From what I remembered about the Circles, it was more of a prison than anything else a place that had such fancy jewels. When I touched the stone, it warmed until I could no longer bare it. I pulled my thumb back quickly, shaking it mildly and replaced the necklace on the bed. My stomach reminded me of my lunchtime plans, and I turned and looked in the armoire for some appropriate clothing. I found a pair of robes and what looked like slippers but were made from a type of felt material and a dark blue. The robes were of similar colors, but made of a thicker and rougher material, possibly wool or sheepskin. After I figured out how to put the damn things on, I put on the slipper like shoes and walked out of my door-less doorway. There was a curved wall immediately opposite my door, and a couple of statues to my left and right. I quickly realized I had no idea where the kitchens or eating hall was, and I was going to sit there like an idiot until someone came along to ask when Evelyn drifted around the corner to my right.

“C’mon Andy, before they eat all the sweets!” She literally bounced in anticipation, trying to make me move faster by waving me along. I chuckled and followed her boisterous attitude. We walked into a central room, and took the stairs leading down to the left. There were several humans in the room, and I recognized robes similar to mine, and the robes of what I believe to remember as the Tranquil. As we descended the steps, well, Evelyn nearly skipped down them, we ran into a couple of other mages in dark blue robes. They said hello to my human companion in passing, eyes roaming over my head and not paying attention to me. I frowned but stored the incident away for another time. At the bottom of the stairs we turned to the left and went through two massive wooden doors, deeply engraved with rolling symbols and runes. They glittered as we passed, and knowledge unbidden came from the depths of my brain. The engravings were filled with lyrium, used to restrain and trap mages in case of possession and abominations. 

_That was not my memory…..could it be Lavellan’s?_

This curious new development was trumped by the smell of roast animal and fresh fruits. My mouth watered so much I had to swallow, twice. I looked across the long table spread in the grand hall, filled to bursting with all kinds of fresh food and cooked animals. My stomach made its emptiness very clear, and Evelyn giggled. 

“Come, let us eat you heathen.” She went and sat down next to a human man, and an empty chair to her right. I got the feeling that it was a well-intentioned insult, like bantering between friends.  
I sat down and damn near forgot that I was in a strange new world while I feasted. I barely remembered to use utensils instead of just my fingers. The hall was noisy with clatter of utensils on plates and idle chatter, but I still heard the chuckles behind me of the men in shiny armor that flashed too bright in my peripherals. I also heard the huffs of disappointment from the elder mages sat around the table. I ignored all, until I felt comfortably satisfied in my gorging endeavors. I cleaned my plate with some bread, getting any crumbs I missed. I finally sat back and surveyed my surroundings. Evelyn was discussing, more like flirting, with the man to her left, and I used his distractedness to my advantage and studied him. He had dark brown hair, in shaggy un-washed curls down to his shoulders. His beard had grown out too far without trimming, and his olive toned cheeks flashed a deep red whenever Evelyn brushed his hand or lightly tapped his arm. He was a smitten, dirty hobo as far as I could tell. There were about twenty adults around the table of varying ages, and it looked like two or three teenagers. And ever present around the room, seven templars in the armor with the age-old fiery sword emblazoned upon their chests. I noticed, among all these people, I was the only elf. The rest were all human. I also took note that their robes were different. Not in color or particularly style, but in make. Mine were rough, possibly home-spun even, were theirs were obviously of fine or standard make. Combined with the incident on the stairs, I was starting to believe what I remembered of racism from the game. If I remained correct, then even amongst elves I would be discriminated against. Lovely. Although not unexpected. At this point, Evelyn had decided to finish her meal instead of flirt with the hobo, and she turned to me ready to go. I nodded my ascent, and took one last swig of the water in my mug. She led me back to my room, where I noticed the door had been replaced, although no lock was attached nor was there a hole for it in the doorway. I shut the door behind me, and decided to give Evelyn a leap of faith. I had a creeping feeling this was no dream, and the panic that followed that feeling was becoming almost dizzying.

“Evelyn, may I ask you something?” I wrung my hands together, and began to pace at the foot of the bed. 

She sat down on the edge, and replied “Why of course Andy, when has that ever stopped you before?” She smiled, but cautiously, apparently finally catching on to my odd behavior.

“How long have we been friends Evelyn?” I asked.

“What? Ever since you came to the Circle, some nine winters now. We hit it off immediately, after you tried to off my hand. But, you knew this already…” She frowned deeply, looking at me like I had grown a second head. Another memory came then, _of a frightened little elf, racing away from the templars who had dumped her on the Circle floor to hide in the stockroom. A redheaded child, a few years older, found that elf and attempted to tattle when she was attacked and nearly lost a finger to the scrappy little one. Afterwards, in the apprentice quarters, she introduced herself._

_“I’m Evelyn, but you can call me Evie!”_

“Aye, that we have…and I have a confession.” I said, and I came to stand directly in front of Evelyn, but far enough to be out of reach.

“But you have to swear on our friendship and your life you will let me explain as fully as I can before saying or doing anything.” I waited for her to nod, and then I continued. “I am not Andy Lavellan. She…her soul has gone. She called to mine as it entered the Fade and gave herself for me for my time had come to leave the world. She saved me Evelyn, and I think it is because there is something she wants me to do still here.” As I spoke, I realized what I said to be true. A memory played at the edges, but a migraine followed any pursuit of it. “I am not possessed, nor am I an intruder. I did not ask to be this or to take her place, but here I am. Will you let me succeed your friend, and continue what she thinks I missed?” I tried to regulate my breathing as I waited for the response, fully prepared to lay myself at the templar’s mercy if she decided to run to them. 

“You…are not Andrea Lavellan?”

I let out the breath I did not know I was holding at the question, but otherwise did not move. 

“Correct. I was…human and had an accident and lost my life. My spirit entered her body and I woke here.”

“Were you a mage?”

“No.”

She started chuckling, and it grew into slightly hysterical laughter. She finally covered her mouth and bent over, putting her elbows on her knees with her head down. I wanted to attempt to comfort her, but I felt that my touch would be unwelcome. Once she recovered, she said with a shaky voice, “Aye that sounds like my Andy. Poor thing probably saw it coming too and just wouldn’t tell me. Probably thought I wouldn’t notice. She always said I was the weird one for befriending an elf.” She sighed and stood, not looking anywhere in my direction and headed to the door. She stopped just short of opening it, hand on the doorknob.

“I won’t tell anyone, for her sake, but I don’t know you nor do I want to see you. I have to go mourn my friend without some stranger in her body walking about.” She looked up to make sure I understood, and then left with the door softly closing behind her. I took a seat on the bed and put my head in my hands. 

What have I gotten myself into? Thrust into Thedas, as the two most hated things you could possibly be, aside of course from a damned darkspawn. Well, fuck it. Might as well make the most of it.

I had to determine where in this gods-forsaken world I was. A Circle of Magi obviously, and if Evelyn is the Trevelyan I think she is, then I am in the Ostwick Circle in the Free Marches. The most important part of this equation however is _when_. Has the Fifth Blight happened? The mage rebellion obviously has not, considering the Circle still exists. But how long do I have until then? I chewed my bottom lip as I thought, the only way to determine the year is to ask someone, but considering I know only one and she definitely does not wish to see me at the moment, it will have to wait at least until tomorrow. The least I can do in the meantime is try not to forget everything I can remember from the games. I rifle through the objects on the bed and find an empty journal as well as some ink and fresh quill. I grab the supplies and move to the desk. I begin writing everything I remember, in as close to chronological order as I could. There wasn’t much in specifics, except that I knew the Blight took place in 9:30 Dragon, and ended in roughly 9:31. The Champion happens for a decade, and the Chantry blew up in roughly 9:40. So the rebellion is in 9:41, and then the Breach and Inquisition. As the broad overview comes into shape, I realize that I needed to find an enchantment to hide this book. If anyone got a hold of it and thought it worth any salt, it could cause many an issue. I sat it aside and picked up the used journals. 

I flipped through the first one, and noticed the flourished script and clean lines. I compared it to what I had freshly wrote, and it was a scribbled combination of our two styles. Cleaner than my original, but not as aristocratic as Lavellan’s. I sighed, taking it as something I would just have to get used to. I turned back to the old journal, and somehow I just knew it had nothing to with enchantments but the study of primal magic, specifically fire and lighting and how the two could make deadly combos. I sat it aside, but I was oh so interested. The others were more of the same, studies in different elements of primal magic and its applications. Now at least I know she was a decent mage. I turned to the bookshelves, and although I could barely read some of the titles, her apparent knowledge of foreign languages did not extend far, I found a couple that looked promising. I spent the rest of the day researching enchantments, with some hints here and there from memory. Books were spread everywhere when my stomach reminded me of its needs. I barely remembered the way to the hall where we ate lunch, but I let muscle memory take me with little issue. Evelyn wasn’t there, so I ate quickly and as quietly as possible, the stares of the other mages was enough to curb some of my earlier appetite.

Upon returning to my room, I once again delved into the books. A short time later, the light in the room dimmed harshly. I frowned and looked around, just now noticing that there was no window in my room. The light came from white-ish stones in the four corners of the ceiling, and I realized they must be dwarven light stones. It must be late, so they dimmed. I sat up and stretched, my bones popping as they settled back into place. I quickly took scraps of parchment paper and marked the pages in my books. I set them all in a stack on the desk. I had long left the scratchy robes on the chair next to the desk and settled on leggings and a tunic, so I merely crawled under my also scratchy blanket and settled into the bed. I sat awake for a while, listening as a templar patrolled the hall, and the one posted at my door occasionally shuffle and clink his armor. It seemed like hours before sleep fitfully took me, every time the templar passed my door I would wake at the unfamiliar noises. Finally, in the wee hours of the morn, I fell without pause, succeeding but a few scant hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think. This one is longer, as I hope I can continue to do.


	3. The World As We Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An opportunity presents itself, and our meager heroine hopes it works.

It took almost three weeks for Evelyn to even look in my direction again. I saw her only at meals, and once in the library. It was another few days before she spoke to me, and it was only a single sentence.

“What are you researching?” she asked, while I was piled among six or seven texts on a table in the library with a fresh journal on my lap. 

“Uhm, enchantments. Specifically ones to hide texts or other writing.” I replied, wary of her emotions and possibility of her lashing out.

She simply nodded and walked away, carrying a much smaller book than any of the ones I had open. I sighed and watched her for a second, then returned to my research. I had discovered the year, 9:32 Dragon, from one of the Tranquil Formari I had discussed enchantments with. The month and the days however, were far too damn messed up for me to follow. So I simply dated my journals with how many days it had been since entering this complicated world. I had also remembered some specifics from the various games, so I roughly knew what the characters were or could be doing at this time. I also knew that in order to gain any kind of connection to any of them, I needed a reputation and credibility. And that, was where I was having issues. Once the Circles would fall, being a part of one meant nothing unless you were from Orlais like Madame de Fer. And there is not a chance in hell that my bumpkin ass would be able to pull _that_ off. 

So I had to get creative, and I think I had just the way. 

Every month the Circle had lyrium delivered from Orzammar by merchants, mostly surface dwarfs simply because of their natural resistance to the substances’ effects. I often heard the other mages and templars complain about the “grumpy bald cretin” that apparently was the head of the whole thing, which gave me the opportunity I was looking for. On the day of the next delivery, I cut off the mage that was very slowly making his way down the tower to meet the irritating merchant. 

“Hey, uh….Dylan was it?” Even with being here nearly a month I had yet to put forth the effort to learn any of the other mages’ names or faces.

“It’s Daniel, you stupid kni-uhm what do you want?” His hawk-like nose and bushy eyebrows gave him an ugly visage, but my glare stopped him short on the insult.

“In light of you being an ass, I am taking your duty and meeting the lyrium merchant today. So buzz off.” I waved his halfhearted protests away and continued in the direction he was headed. Once on the bottom floor I met the three templars that were waiting by the door. They didn’t comment on the change of mage, simply grumbled about “mage politics” and escorted me outside to the gates. I quickly figured out that the complaints about the surface dwarf were quite warranted. I have honestly never heard so many obscenities in one breath in my life.

“You nug-humpin’ piss-drinkin’ sodding dandelions! Yeh can’t handle those crates like they’re some whore on the street!” I felt the boom of his voice all the way to my toes. He may have been bald, but the beard was majestic as fuck. Intricately braided, inlaid with gold and silver bands, and it still almost hit the floor. The bushy ends brushed against the shins of his brown leather pants, just before the tops of his rough black boots, as he rushed around and smacked his workers.

Being an elf, I was already shorter than everyone of at least sixteen years in the tower, so I didn’t quite have an idea of the height of a dwarf. Either I was extremely short, even for an elf, or dwarves were quite a bit taller than the games gave them credit for. His shiny tanned head reached all the way to my shoulders, and I had no doubt that there were some that reached my height. 

“You lilly-livered airheads! I’ll dump the whole lot of yeh at the next town over if you don’t pick it up!”

“Hey, foul-mouthed dwarf.” He whipped around and squinted at me. “Yeah, you. Are you in charge of these dillweeds?” He quickly stomped over to me and got right in my face.

“So wut if I am?” His breath smelled like stale beer and tobacco, as well as the metallic hint of lyrium.

“Then I have a couple of questions- “

He huffed and turned away. “I ain’t here to answer no soddin’- “

_You goddamn— I’m going to kill this ground hugger._ “You lyrium-licking airhead I am talking to you!” My fists clenched as I shouted after him, attempting to put some balls in my voice for emphasis. He stopped suddenly, and turned around slowly. The look on his face told me I had maybe five seconds before my second death came a-calling.

“Do you want to make some more money or not?” I rushed out, he was slowly stalking towards me with his thick fists clenched, and I couldn’t help but notice that his dirty white tunic was straining across his arms and chest. Once he was within a relatively close hearing distance, I pitched my idea.

“There is a dwarf in Orzammar that requested to study with the Fereldan Circle of Magi. She was rejected. I would like you to take this,” I pulled out a folded and sealed envelope of parchment paper, “and deliver it to her. She is going to do brilliant things, and it so happens that if the merchant helped me with this and facilitated her learning, they would be entitled to a percentage of the royalties.” 

He scowled at me, then at the letter. His gaze returned to my face, and stared for a long time, seemingly looking for something. 

“How am I to know this will make money?” he asked.

“As of right now, it’s an investment. You have to return to Orzammar either way for the lyrium. Delivering this letter will lose you nothing.” I said. Whatever he was looking for in my face, he must have found it, because he took the letter roughly from my hand. 

“Twenty five percent.” He stated.

“Ten.” I offered.

He scowled. 

“Eighteen. I won’t go no lower.” 

“Fine.” I sighed, he held out his massive hand, and we shook on it. 

“I don’t trust yer emotionless scholars, so I’ll have one of my buddies write up the proper docs.”

“Glad to have business with you, ser..?” I left the sentence on a question, realizing I still had not gotten the stocky man’s name.

“Dranal. Dranal Bemot.” He turned away and tucked the letter in his shirt.

“Wait, I didn’t tell you who---”

“I know who the hell it goes to ya damn elf.” He waved me off and started yelling at his men again, rushing them to get packed up so they could leave.

I chuckled, turning back towards the tower as the templars ushered me back inside. As I walked back up the tower, I almost dreaded going back to my research on enchanting. I had learned just about all there was in the tower about the craft, and there was not a single damn thing about enchanting items to cover their message. I had instead found an old Tevinter text on ciphers and had been writing my journals in a really old and forgotten code. Combined with hiding the book, although I was paranoid about it, I was confident if anyone found it they would have no idea how to translate it. In attempting to read everything in the tower, I had run across a rendition of the Fifth Blight. Heavily augmented of course, to favor the Cousland Hero of Fereldan, but it was where I learned the basics of what had happened. 

The Hero apparently chose to annul the Circle, rescue the Dalish, and side with Bhelen Aeducan while keeping the Anvil of the Void. Loghain Mac Tir had felled the Archdemon and died in the process. Which meant that Morrigan failed in her attempt to have a kid. Anora was queen, but no Theirin ruled with her, so Alistair could be anywhere. The book ended with the mentioning of the Warden-Commander becoming Arl of Amaranthine. So the Hero was probably dealing with the in-fighting darkspawn and a devilish Anders. That was a part that I always enjoyed about the expansion, the Anders before Justice. 

I smiled regretfully, knowing what Anders would become later on. I sighed and headed back to my quarters. The deal with the lyrium merchant threw off my routine, and with my somber thoughts I figured I could rearrange my meditation schedule. I had hoped that with being a mage finding my magic would be easy considering Lavellan had practiced as much already, but with no luck. At times while meditating I could almost feel it brushing along the base of my spine and in the pit of my stomach, but I could never quite grasp it. I had even gone as far as to quietly eavesdrop on a lesson in the subject in the library, with just as little success. That lesson did however answer one of my questions on incantations. Every spell learned in the tower is written in Tevene, so every mage has a basic understanding of the language. In order to cast it, once you dip into your magic, you have to say the words aloud. Most out of apprenticeship can simply mouth the words, and only the most skilled in the spell or section of magic can do so without words. 

From reading Lavellan’s previous journals, I knew she was well-versed in primal magic. It is also where I felt the most stirring in my magic. I settled down in the age-old “meditate” pose, with my legs criss-crossed and my hands on my knees. I lightly hummed to calm my mind, and I concentrated on the beat of my blood through my body, breathing slowly. I imagined it as little wisps of blue smoke dancing in my body. Every time I reached for one, it flowed around my hand, just out of reach. I don’t know how long I sat, reaching at smoke, but by the end of it I was sweating and had labored breathing. Just as I was about to give up, a blurry memory sprang up. 

_It was Evelyn, as a young pre-teen. Her red hair was frazzled around her red face, and she was sitting across from me in much the same pose as I was now._

_“It’s not working Andy! It’s not fair, it comes so easy for you!” She practically shouted, even though we were within touching distance._

_“It’s easy for me because I’ve kinda always done it. It’s like breathing to me. You can’t force it. Allow it to move on its own and it’ll come to ya.” It was my voice, well, Lavellan’s voice._

_Evelyn grumbled under her breath, but Lavellan simply chuckled and leaned forward, poking Evelyn in the cheek._

_“Close your eyes Evie. Listen to your heartbeat, slow your breathing. It’ll come.” I watched as my hand gently brushed over her eyelids and they fluttered closed. I watched her breathe slowly for a couple seconds, and then she gasped._

_“Now repeat the spell, just like before.” She quickly breathed out the words for fire, as Lavellan brought her hands together in front of her. A tiny ball of flame hovered over her fingers, flickering from their combined breathing. “You did it!” ___

__Well, that was sure helpful. I brought the same spell to mind and mimicked what the memory showed. Instead of reaching for the magic, I let it come to me, coaxing it into my grasp. Slowly it filled my chest able and willing to be used. With my heart pounding, I said the spell and watched as a flame about the size of my fist grew into being above my palms. Holy nug-loving shit. It actually fucking works. I giggled like a little kid and watched as the flame danced over my fingers, seemingly as giddy as I was. Magic is real, and it is almost as if alive and feeding off of your energy, which would make sense in a way. I let the spell and mana go, and the flame slowly dimmed to nothing. It was a small thing, in the grand scheme of what happens, but it brought me an insurmountable amount of joy. I could do this amazing, wonderful thing that I couldn’t before. It brought into perspective the massive amount of damage magic could and will do to this world, and the reality of what it was exactly Andrea Lavellan wanted me to do to try and make it better hit all at once. I was the only one that could make a difference to the future she saw, and that kind of responsibility threatened to kickstart a panic attack. I closed my eyes, trying to focus._ _

__I had to do this, and I had to focus on what it was exactly I could do, one step at a time._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave comments and criticism! They keep getting longer, and I hope to continue that streak.


	4. Work and Aspirations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan institutes her plans for the world.

The weeks flew by in a blur of routine. Every morning I woke up at the changing of the templars by my door. I estimated the change happened roughly around 5 a.m. because the stones did not brighten until much later. Until the room lit up, I did various exercises. I had inspected this new body thoroughly, trying to establish a baseline of my abilities. The grace that was supposed to come with being elven must have skipped me - I was as much of a klutz as I was in my world. I soon realized however, that Lavellan had as much hatred towards other races as she was given. This had created a very isolated environment for her, and it looked like the only friendly interaction she had been given was from Evelyn. A result of that was that at some point I believe Lavellan had been starving herself. Even from what I remembered of elven culture, this body was almost anorexic in stature. I took it upon myself to eat more and to strengthen and build muscle. It was her body, but now I had to make it my own. Using my rough time-keeping skills, I estimated I did about two hours of physical activity every morning. Afterwards I would go to the mess hall, eat my bodyweight in food, and then head to the library. Unfortunately, we were only allowed one shower a day, so my stinky ass sat in those lounge chairs and reveled in everyone’s avoidance. I read and took notes on everything I could get my hands on. I loved learning new things as it was, and now I was set upon a world where I knew only marginal details. I devoured everything. I had to request more journals from the stockroom within the first week in order to keep up. Lunchtime would come around, I would devour the food just as fast as I did the books. After lunch I focused on practicing my magic. I used the principle of “magic is a muscle” and assumed that the more I used it and pushed the limits of my mana pool, the stronger my spells would become and the longer I could use them. It wasn’t like my physical muscles, where after the third week I could tell the difference in my endurance, but I did believe that it was accomplishing the same thing at a much slower rate.  
In those weeks, I never received a reply from Orzammar. I had to assume Dranal wouldn’t leave me high and dry and just throw away my letter. As the time for the next lyrium shipment drew closer, I begun to get slightly nervous. I had not thought out a backup plan if this didn’t go through. I was going to use Dagna and her research to give myself some credibility in the merchant world, to hopefully have enough sway to get the attention of one of the Hands of the Divine. If she didn’t come, then I would have to figure another way out, which would cost me more precious time. As it happens, I needn’t have worried.  
The day of the shipment came, and I eagerly met the templars by the door to the tower, ready to get a move on. The doors were opened, and we walked to meet Dranal and his workers. We were heralded by his ever-present insults and yelling, and I heard the templars’ murmurs of dissent. I scanned everyone I saw, hoping to find a female dwarf somewhere. I approached Dranal as he hollered at some skinny human lad that had dropped a crate.  
“You air-headed buffoon! You break that, and I’ll have yer head!”  
“Well good-morning to you too, nug-humper.” I smiled congenially, hoping my casual approach worked.  
“Who the-oh, it’s the soddin’ elf.” He whirled around at the insult but relaxed slightly when he recognized me. “I delivered yer damn letter. You owe me a couple favors, her father ‘bout took my damn head off.”  
“Thank you, ser Bemot. Did you have the contracts written up?”  
“Aye, here. The girl already signed her portion, didn’t even read the thing.” I took the stack of papers from him as he muttered about “bad practice” and “her dad oughta taught her better”. I briefly tried to read it, but the language, even in Common, was too complicated and repetitive for me to read in one sitting. I merely took the quill he held out and signed in the blank spots. He eyed me derisively, likely thinking the same things he was about Dagna. I handed them back to him with a smile and he just scoffed at me.  
“I expect to hear from yeh the next time I make a delivery.”  
“Of course, I’m sure we can come up with something by then. Where is she at?” I asked, scanning again and only seeing his workers. He pointed behind me, and I followed the direction of his finger. There, in all her short glory, was the would-be brilliant arcanist poking the templars’ armor and rattling off question after question without stopping for answers. The templars’ were obviously very agitated and wanted her to go away, but she ignored all social cues that did not answer her questions. I started chuckling, said farewells to Dranal, and headed in her direction. As I approached, I noticed the clenched fists of the templar she was currently interrogating and hastened my steps. I definitely did _not_ want her to cause a scene before I even got her inside.  
“But do you really know how much to take? What if you overdose? What happens if you stop? Have you ever touched it? How is it distilled? Do you ever think—”  
“Okay I think we should head on inside.” I grab her shoulders firmly and steer her towards the door and gently push her through. Once inside she turns to me, her dark red hair still in its’ two pigtails. The top of her head barely reaches my bicep, and I have to tilt my head down to look her in the eye.  
“Oooh an elf! I heard that your people have different kinds of magic to what is studied in the Circle! Has that affected how you have learned? Can you—”  
“Hang on!” I chuckled. Her enthusiasm was invigorating. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Andrea Lavellan, Andy to my friends. I am the one who sent you the letter.”  
“Yes! I’m Dagna, oh but you already knew that. I’m sorry I’m just so excited to finally learn and—”  
I raised my eyebrow and smiled at her, and she laughed nervously and blushed.  
“I am glad you are excited. It’s almost time for lunch, let’s get you settled in and then we can eat and discuss some things.” She smiled and nodded, and I led her up to my room.  
“You can put your things in that trunk over there, I don’t use it. These books are all particular favorites of mine, but you don’t have to start here. The library is open until the evening, when the lights dim. No one is allowed to roam the halls after curfew, and we only shower in the evening.”  
“Uhm, where am I supposed to sleep?” she asked, a confused look on her face. I opened my mouth to speak, and then closed it. I frowned. _Fuck_. I had completely forgotten to request a cot or something for her to sleep on.  
“Uh…..you can sleep in my bed. I usually fall asleep at the desk anyway.” I made a mental note to ask for a cot or couch or _something_. I heard an extremely feminine giggle, which grew into a full-bellied laugh. She was laughing at me. Like, slap-your-knee, can’t stand, type of laugh. As if it was contagious, I started giggling and laughing soon after. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe and had to sit on the floor. Dagna had tears streaming from her eyes and was holding onto the edge of my bed to stay standing. We must have made such a commotion that we were heard outside, because next thing I knew Evelyn had poked her head inside to see what was going on.  
“What are you doing in here? It sounds like some old hags got too wine-drunk and are making fun of people.” At that, Dagna and I looked at each other, and a new round of giggles and laughter commenced. Evelyn entered the room fully and put her hands on her hips in a slightly accusatory manner. There was a smile on her lips however, softening her posture.  
I finally got control of myself, and shakily stood to my feet.  
“I honestly don’t know. Dagna just started laughing at me, and it was contagious.”  
“Like feet fungus!” Dagna piped in, starting another round of giggles from her. I smiled and looked back to Evelyn, hoping that I could repair a partial inch of friendship.  
“Would you like to eat lunch with us?” I asked.  
She frowned for a moment, and I feared she would say no. She must have come to a conclusion in her head however and nodded. I grinned and beckoned the still giggling dwarf to follow us.  
As we headed to the mess hall, many eyes were on us, and Dagna asked Evelyn a bunch of questions. She seemed to never stop talking. The idle chatter was a nice cover to me subtly attempting to check on Evelyn. She had dark circles under her eyes, and there were new frown lines. I sighed, realizing the lack of interaction probably hurt her more than it was me. I was used to being alone, hell I had been alone for years in my world. Isolation was my friend. She didn’t seem to be as introverted as I was. I knew, for Lavellan’s sake, that I had to repair this relationship. A sense of urgency hit me as I realized this, and I remembered the vision I had had before. I concluded that if Evelyn did not become the Herald, then she did not survive the mage rebellion or the Conclave.  
We sat down and began to eat, ignoring all of the prying eyes watching us. Dagna kept the conversation light and easy, not allowing silence to enter, not even as she ate. I knew if it did it would be awkward and was glad for the chatter. I noticed almost immediately when she stopped and looked up. Standing behind her was Senior Enchanter Lydia, with her fancy robes and regal air, one hand on Dagna’s shoulder and a severe disapproving look on her face as she studied the dwarf.

“I don’t remember inviting anyone to the Circle my dear. Would you mind telling me the reason for this impromptu visit?” I could see her grip tightening on the poor girl’s shoulder, and immediately I stepped in.  
“I invited her, Enchanter. She was rejected the chance to study at the Fereldan Circle and took it upon myself to invite her here. I figured we would be hospitable, and it could possibly improve our relations with Orzammar, given that her family is a very prominent smithing family.” I had stood as I talked, not letting her lord over me since I was sitting. My short stature did not improve the distance much, but the point was made. She squinted her eyes, studying me. I fought to keep my hands from shaking, because I knew this woman had the power to transfer me to other towers and ruin my plans before they even began.  
“Initiative is appreciated, but be careful you don’t overstep yourself, elf.” She hurled the word like an insult, but I didn’t let it affect me. I couldn’t change my race any more than she could. She patted Dagna’s shoulder, and then walked away. All three of us sighed in relief and I plopped back down into my chair.  
“Who was that?” Dagna asked, returning to munching in her roll.  
“Senior Enchanter Lydia,” Evelyn replied. “She basically rules the mages in the tower. She definitely is racist and hates the fact that Andy even passed her Harrowing.”  
“Really?” I asked. I thought she was rude like that normally, but now it made sense.  
Evelyn glanced in my direction. “Yes, she used to make Andy—” she stopped herself and coughed to cover up her blunder. “You cry every time she entered the room.” She quickly sipped her water to busy herself.  
I decided now was the time to pitch my idea, in effort of repairing what I had ruined my first day. “Evelyn, would you mind teaching me more healing? I’ve tried to do it from the books, but it is eluding me.” I frowned, thinking on my past attempts at healing my own migraines. Apparently, it was a particularly difficult skill for Lavellan as well.  
She smirked. “I thought you would never ask.” She said.  
We finished our lunch quickly, and then returned to my rooms. Dagna took it upon herself to grab one of her journals from her bag and the nearest book she could grab off the shelf. She sat against the headboard and began reading. Occasionally, she would ask a question about something she read, and either Evelyn or I would answer. Evelyn began teaching me the different incantations for spirit healing, and the different practices. She also had me memorize the ingredients in a proper healing potion, which was more than just elfroot. The days and weeks flew by like this, and eventually I had taught Evelyn more powerful primal spells, and we had ventured into illusion magic together. Dagna and I focused on enchantments of books and paper, attempting to achieve the enchantment I had first looked for.  
In our research, as such happens with most experiments, we stumbled upon the elven enchantments of increasing the strength of the veil. Tweaking them subtly, we managed to make a pair of cuffs that completely severed one’s connection to the veil. It took me hours to recover the first time we tested them. By the time Dranal came back around, we had managed to make them in varying degrees. We waited for him with a sense of pride and accomplishment, that not even his constant sour mood could affect.  
“I’m gonna guess those smiles mean money?” he said, with his gruff tone.  
“Yes! However, was there a clause in that contract of yours that determines which merchants we use?” I asked, hoping to appear innocent. He eyeballed me, and then grudgingly answered.  
“No, I figured you had an idea?” I smiled in victory.  
“Yep. Varric Tethras. He’s a merchant based out of Kirkwall.”  
He sighed heavily. “You want me to use the most hated merchant in the Guild to move your merchandise?”  
“Yes. Also, I want you to employ a dwarf by the name of Sandal Feddic in Kirkwall to help fill the orders that serah Tethras gets.” Dagna was looking at me curiously but held silent for once. Dranal studied us for a few seconds, and then nodded. “You got the plans?”  
Dagna handed over the blueprints for the enchantment, and he shook his head, but walked away. Dagna and I giggled and high-fived each other, and then rushed back inside to start on our next project.  
A couple weeks later while we were in the library researching coding, I received a letter with an unfamiliar seal. A young templar-recruit handed it to me shyly and scurried as fast as he could in plate armor. I smiled after him, thinking he would have been cute if I didn’t know he had powers and orders that could kill me at a moments’ notice.  
Dagna, nosy as ever, snatched the letter from me before I could even open it.  
“Hey! That wasn’t for you!” I chased her around the library, disturbing everyone with our activity and her notorious giggling. Everyone in the tower now knew her voice and had been bombarded at some point by her curious mind. All except for the Senior Enchanter. That was the only time she was ever silent, and she had confided in me once that Lydia scared her worse than her father ever did. I continued chasing Dagna through the halls, and we ended up in Evelyn’s quarters, where Dagna pounced atop her while she was reading in her bed. I whipped around the corner and burst into the room, red-faced, breathing heavily, and my hair all askew from its’ ponytail.  
“Oy you boot-licker! Give that back!” I hopped into the pile of limbs and began tickling whoever and wherever I could. Both of them were severely ticklish, a trait I thankfully did not inherit in this body. Once we had all calmed down, Dagna opened the letter and began to read.

_Serah Lavellan,_

_I do not know how managed to get a Bemot to have a business relation with me, but it is quite a feat. I am curious how you heard of me. Many try to avoid even talking about me. The enchanting blueprints you sent me check out, and Dranal tells me you have specific instructions on who should be creating these enchantments? Curious, but I will respect your wishes. At some point you must come out to see me, and we can discuss business face-to-face. I do not conduct business with unknowns, but what you have shown me is very reassuring. You must tell me who this smith is that you have, her signature is not known to me._  
Do keep in contact,  
Varric Tethras 

His script was flowing and elegant, much unlike my own scribble. As soon as Dagna was done reading, I leapt up in triumph. It may be a shaky business agreement, but it was a start. My plans had actually begun, and I knew I could cultivate them. This was the last hurdle I had foreseen in getting things going. Now my issue was a simple one, but the worst as of yet. I had to have patience. These next few months were going to test my patience to all hell, but I had to make sure the time was right before I attempted to insert myself into the ruling powers of Thedas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I apologize for my hiatus, life got in the way. I am however continuing this story, and hoping to expand this world I have started.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment and/or a kudos! Let me know how I did and what I can do to improve! Thanks for reading!


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